


The Silent Knight

by padeals_lucnval



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padeals_lucnval/pseuds/padeals_lucnval
Summary: Patsy lives in a medieval village, running a "knight school" for young boys she has many new experiences and encounters the formidable Silent Knight, only to find out they are softer than their exterior lets on.
Relationships: Delia Busby/Patsy Mount
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	1. Bird Song

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first attempt at a longer fic, and though I would love it to be slow burn I can get impatient :) enjoy.

Chapter one: bird song

That morning was very much like any other, the sun rose spreading a myriad of colours over the water that beat the shore in a rhythmic way that only the gods would understand. The village rose with the sun to start a days work, a mixture of children running around and adults grunting as they trod over to the town centre. My job in this place was ambiguous, I was what was needed, and today it was to watch over the middle-aged children, boys. I hated the violence in some of them that was only exaggerated by knight training, which mostly involved riding horses in heavy gear. They were enthralled by the idea of, one day, becoming a magnificent jouster called upon by his king to protect land and country. I envy the me who would not have to do this, wishing to be back on the boats for fishing. I liked the way the sun hit the water, its ripples spreading golden flecks to beyond our town. I loved the idea that somewhere, someone else will be admiring the same sun, the indication of there being something more. 

In the distance, birds awoke, much like the village men they rose to start their day of work. Their song filling the air with happiness and I inhaled to absorb some of their beauty, their noise growing softer as they flew away. The way of the bird seemed simple to me, raw, and decidedly nicer than my current life. All was about survival and gathering food. Us humans don’t take pleasure in these small actions anymore. We need entertainment in the form of battle. I sometimes wondered if they were more so for gain or for fun, the boys I trained definitely saw it as the latter. From a distance I heard my name being shouted, a call to arms. I allowed myself one more moment of joy before responding and rising from the sand to meet todays torture. 

The walk back to the village was peaceful, the last bit of silence I had that day. The orange rays of the sun only enhanced the red of my hair, and heated my ears against the cold, midsummer breeze. It warmed my fair skin in one last act of happiness before the days tasks commenced. The village was a larger settlement, somewhere close to the Celtic borders. My hair had always made me an outcast, one of enemy territory, but when my mother and sister passed they rallied around me, included me. They are my family now. We had realised disease hits everyone the same, and that no-one should have nobody. I stood on the border of town, as I did each morning, and watched as children clad in leather and wool ran around, blunted wooden swords in hand, play fighting. Together. Blacksmiths and doctors conversed about the weather and smiled as neighbors, their status ignored to pave way for friendships. The small wooden shacks stood aside larger stone buildings, no speak of difference, only what joined us. The forgotten village so vibrant under the morning’s eyes. 

There were paths of deadened grass made by the patterns people followed as they traipsed around, from house to house. A large farm with enough to support everyone flourished with bright greens and reds, berries and wheat, sweet and savoury sat together in harmony. In the middle, a circular stone building in which town meetings were held, intricate masonry marked the space around it, with benches for people to converse on in the evenings, a place of comfort for many of the women. The fencing didn’t divide the houses, but surrounded the town as a cage for outsiders to stay out; for the foxes to be exiled, for protection. Surrounding us was a ring of trees, some new and barely sprouting, as if they were arms reaching up for their parents. The weeds flowered the ground below, no-one dared move them so as to not disturb the way of the earth. Mother Nature was our protector and our carer, she would give shields from strong winds, and shade from the low winter sun. The only break in the trees gave way to the path towards the beach, the one on which I stood, a solace place where one found themselves engulfed is the mesmeric waves. 

As the day progressed I had learnt that the boys, though rowdy, were quite easy to control with a little humour and wholeheartedness. This did not mean there was no chaos, however. My height had given me some command but the boys simply didn’t have the respect for the animals, the horses bravery as they took men into battle was lost on them. Despite this, I had fully enjoyed myself, and thought it best that someone with knowledge of the beasts would take on the role more permanently. It had given me purpose, but I did not realise that this decision would change the course of my life. 

As time went on, I developed a fondness for the art of battle, the town chancellor had given me knowledge of previous wars that enveloped the village’s history. I had so much information at my disposal, and began to understand how such dreadful occasions were necessary to the survival of our culture. It was stressed that all engagement in combat was to be defensive only, and that this was the most important fact for the boys to learn. Each child had been given a piece of armour in which to protect themselves from oncoming forces, though it was not as heavy as the men’s, or even as mine. The blacksmith had made my armour almost “war-worthy” as he had put it, understanding how accident prone young boys can be. It was decided between the village I was to be a maiden of battle, a woman who joined battle with men, to tend to the delicacies of loss, and think of fresh ideas to conquer. Though the role had never come into volition, it gave me respect from outsiders who might visit, and access to weapons training that I was otherwise running blind with. This new outlook on life had opened my eyes to the village. I focused on the community; battle cries were our birdsong, and I noticed we weren’t so different from our winged friends after all.


	2. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note that flashbacks are, and will be, highlighted by the italics :) enjoy.

Our village worked well, except when it didn’t. When the harvest wasn’t enough, when the rain was too plentiful and ran away crops, when the animals scarpered to a newer, safer place. Though we were well versed in hard times, the low production of vegetables and low catch of game had slowed the village. All unnecessary activities were halted to preserve energy throughout the day, and the little food source was shared based on needs. Adults ate child size portions, and children ate even less. In nature, when there is a tough month, the animals move, they follow the river to a new source of food , but we were stuck. Our settlement feared becoming illegitimate if we moved too far from our current post. We had a home, Mother Nature guided us and tested us with the harshness of reality. A reminder to stay grounded.

The wheat had died, the ground grey through lack of life, the last potatoes surfacing, though small and barely enough for one family. We used the seawater and roots for soup, gnawed on branches to tame our need for food. We gathered the berries we knew weren’t poisonous and shared them between us equally. It brought us together but the stale bodies that walked the town weren’t the jovial people that once carried the village through thick and thin. The doctor was swamped with people he couldn’t save. The first death came as a shock, the tenth as an inconvenience. There was nowhere to send the bodies, not that they took up much space with malnourishment plaguing us, perhaps for punishment. Perhaps it meant nothing at all.

The famine meant each person’s jobs were uprooted, changed. We were focused on gathering as much for the town as possible. We became reliant on the open waters, fish was our main source of nutrients. Though the taste had become tiresome, repetitive. The same flavour each day. The sensation repulsive, and despite our greatest efforts there was still not enough. No matter how much fish we culled, it was not enough. Illness only became more rampant through lack of fruit and vegetables. Our efforts were fruitless, no gain despite our greatest struggles. Through my mindless wandering I found myself face to face with the physical manifestation of the terror our village was overcome with.

The smell had hit me first, when I visited the burial site, more like a hole in the ground than a respectful manner of returning bodies to the ground. It was death, the smell you get if you leave a cow to rot after removing the meat. The end of life. There was no other way to describe it, but its familiarity haunted me, it is cursed to never leave you, the scent of death, no matter how hard you scrubbed your hands it followed you, became an acquaintance you’d rather forget about. When I sat by the pile of friends, I couldn't help but to be dragged back to that time. My sister, my mother, the screams of people engulfed by chaos.

_Before, when the village had just come together, when everyone was learning their differences, and similarities. There was a problem everyone was faced with, the early workings had ground to a halt, no shelter was complete, no man had a home. My mother arrived with my sister and I in hand, heard of this town being a place for new starts and found nothing but pain and illness. Instead of turning away, she dragged us right into the middle of it, cared for the children who needed it. But the inevitable happened, she grew ill. The colour and energy drained from her skin, and, as the days passed, my sister fell into the same fate. The life force drained from them, their bodies grey and festering. The smell came and never left. The stench of death became my shadow, and we walked into the new life, together. The village grew around us, families came together, and my family was not blood, but the love I felt was sweeter. No matter the strength in their compassion, my friend followed me, a reminder of the lives lost._

I couldn’t stand the sight anymore, I had to leave. I sought comfort in the only place I could think of, the only place where the scent wasn’t so abrasive. Where the waves hypnotised me back to before, when I was young, when father was still around and full of love. When mother and sister weren’t six feet under. When I was happy. The hunger I felt wasn’t for food, that was gone after the first few days, I needed a fuller heart, not stomach. I craved the love of a family rallying around through a hard period. The emptiness loss leaves on the soul, is greater than the hole left by hunger.


	3. Sky Full of Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the food drought, Patsy finds herself overcome with emotions, and struggling to cope with her past.

Over the next weeks, the village stabilised again, rainfall was regular enough to enable soils to become fertile and workable. But the damage was already done. A total of 17 deaths, across all generations was the consequence of the hard months. Each family felt it, the loss of a friend, a parent, a child; it didn’t matter. A burial was held, give acknowledgment of the people who were so unceremoniously stripped of their lives. The time to mourn was decided, and when that day came the whole town fell silent. 

The only sound in the air was the rain falling on the trees, it was like the gods were crying for us. The blue of the sky deep and grey, and the waves crashed strongly against the beach nearby. The horizon blended softly, no clear definition of where the sky met the sea. There was no thunder, no lightening, no animosity in the air; just sadness. I wished to be given permission to leave, to run far away and start again but, my loyalties were stuck so solidly, I was frozen in position alongside the town. My feet felt heavy on my body, as though weighed down by steel boots and chains. Any effort to raise them was flawed, a running theme as my head hung low, not out of sorrow or spite but through the memories i held becoming a burden on my mind. I wished to be transported to another land, to the stars even, anything to escape the memories I was burdened with. 

_ The screaming grew louder and my running feet stumbled through the undergrowth of the woodland, all I wanted was to be lost to the world. I wanted to be alone. _

My sight became unfocused, my eyes dry and tender. I couldn’t feel my arms or my feet. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to live.

_ I couldn’t breathe, i was running so fast, so hard to get away from them, their soulless bodies decomposing. There was no-one around me but i wasn’t alone. My thoughts had chased me through the woods. There was no solitude anymore.  _

I tried my best to focus on the singing, the folk song which filled the skies around me, the tune was there but the lyrics were lost on me. There was no helping me this time, no distraction to stop the thoughts from taking over. 

_ I sat on the ground, my feeble legs not able to run anymore. My cheeks were red and hot as though flames were dripping down them, they came out of my eyes and I couldn't stop it. My mother had suffered so much, all because of some strange disease no-one, not even the doctor, understood. I had to watch her, every day, get worse and worse, scratch away at her own skin. It looked as though she wanted to escape from her own body. The hardest wasn’t watching her get thinner and more lifeless, it was her inability to look at me. Near the end, it was as if I had some sort of shield which deflected her eyes away from me. I had wondered if she even remembered me when she left. And then to watch my sister go through the exact same thing, the knowing that there was no way to stop it killed me. I prayed and prayed for it to take me to but the gods had other plans, they mocked me and my pain and forced me to stay on the earth to mourn my only remaining family’s deaths. There was no right way to deal with this tragedy. I was constantly reminded of my loss, the scars from my past so visible against my fair skin. The red markings adorned my body, some from childhood memories of running carelessly through woods and catching myself on loose branches, others from the grabbing and scratching of the ill souls which embodied my mother and sister in the early days. I wished for a new body and a new mind to go with it. Anything which would allow me to forget the horrible nights i had to endure to get to the future. _

My ears were ringing with the familiar sounds of mourning voices singing their hearts away in hopes it would heal their souls. The beautiful songs of the dead cried throughout the space we inhabited. The woodland encircled us as arms to embrace us with. We come into this world with nothing, and that is how we leave. Nature guides us through the middle bits but ultimately we are, and always will be alone. I found comfort in that fact, the inevitable loneliness, our curse for interrupting the earth’s ways. As the sky filled with song, there was only one thing left to do. I allowed the feelings in, and collapsed through the burden of their weight. The ground below me held my body up, and my fellow village people joined me on the dirt of the floor. We had sat engulfed by emotions, our songs carrying through in spirit. 

  
_ Even though it felt like i was surrounded by thoughts and people I loved, a stranger who stumbled upon that sad scene would see a red-headed child curled up in a ball, crying to herself.  _


	4. Hardest of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reflective Patsy remembers the days before the village.

Before everything, before the pain and the heartbreak, before I knew the names of the people of the village, we were together but so alone, so isolated from everyone. We were set apart from everyone. It was everything. Our physical appearances the most apparent. Our family of redheads made us look like celts, but our accents made us sound like southerners. We didn’t fit anywhere, we were taller than most. I had towered over many kids my age, called an abominable giant, a stupid celt, a red-headed horror. There was nothing which had connected me to the others. So we left, never stayed in one place for more than seven sunsets, most places lasted just one. My father had left us long before, the lack of routine and stability hurt him. One night, I woke to his figure gliding through the trees, his footsteps inaudible as they carried him away. He was normal, his height not threatening, his hair dark but greying, his skin a normal tan. It was my mother, the one that I looked like, my blue eyes a glint brighter than hers, still youthful and joyous despite the toughness of journeying from place to place. My skin was brighter, my rosy cheeks full and my lips had much resembled my fathers, though my smile was something never seen on his face. It mocked me, everytime I went to the water I could see mother reflecting back at me, my cheeks sullen and hollow, no rose tint left. 

_ We played in the woods, running to each other and we made our way through. No mention was made of not sleeping in over two days. Our energy held us up, and mother up. My sister smiled for all of us, she picked flowers and berries she recognised from home and shared them amongst the three of us. She made no notice of her thinning, weakened arms, or the pains she had felt in her stomach. It was as if she felt that her happiness was all that was allowing us to continue our voyage. Her white-blond hair gently reflected the light as it flowed behind her. I wished for her hair, maybe then i would look less foreign. We had stumbled across a fairy circle, a clear patch of beautifully green grass, it contrasted to the darkness of the woods. The moonlight came through the opening of the canopy. I was as if the gods had heard my silent prayers for sleep and safety. That night we slept, well sister slept, mother and I napped as we took turns guarding the space. We would walk another three days before finding a new village. But this time they were nice. They were different. There was no discrimination between people,and they worked together as family. We watched on from the outside and I wondered if that would ever change. No matter where we ended up, I would always feel like an observer, as opposed to a member. This time was different. For a while. One of the men had spotted us, brought us in, fed us and gave us a shelter in which we could sleep. A woman had woken us, showing us to a beach where we could wash and relax before dinner. But it was not dismissive, it was not “you stay here, away from us”. There were other children, even some that were my age. We had fun, for the first time in three years we had fun. Mother spoke with other mothers, released her petty complaints of having two young girls, and conversed about heavier topics, like father. Sister played with boys and girls alike, skimming stones and seeing who could throw the farthest. I had joined a mysterious girl who sat alone, further from the others.  _

_ “Hello” I said, trying to sound friendly. The dark haired girl looked towards me and smiled.  _

_ “Hello” she said, mirroring my own words. Her voice was different. It was soft, like her words were giving me a hug. It was not like any that I had already heard, neither Celtic or Anglo. _

_ “I’m new here, do you have a name?” I responded, trying to start a conversation. She did not engage in conversation, instead she patted the ground next to her. She had invited me to sit with her to watch the sunset. _

_ “I’m new too. I’m alone. I shan’t stay here long though. I must move on” her dark blue eyes filled with sadness, her voice distant. Her hair flowed behind her, wavy like the sea. She never did take her eyes off of the horizon.  _

_ The next day, when we woke, she had gone. One of the townsmen had seen her leave in the early morning. It was the day after that the first illness came. That time spent on the beach with the lonely stranger was the last time I was happy.  _

My heart has hardened from the pain I have felt, but, like stone, even the hardest of hearts can crack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys are enjoying this, the story will pick up soon I promise :)


	5. What The Water Gave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy's retrospective view conjures up dark thoughts from her inner self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W
> 
> hey heads up Trigger Warning for heavy depression, alcoholism and suicidal thoughts/ tendencies

Though days had passed since the burial ceremony, the heartbreak sat heavy in everyone. The faces forlorn behind the facade of a happy family with a hole, a human-sized gap. A bed left empty and cold. A pot left tainted and un-stirred. A seat still bearing the shape worn into the delicate wood that would not be filled by whoever made it. Perhaps a stranger may try; to take the gap left in the hearts of the villagers, but it was destined to never be the same.despite having lost no-one, the lack of family to lose in the first place had hit me. I found myself spending more and more time on the beach, wondering whether anything I did actually improved my future. I became more desperate, the numbing of water had become less and less effective each time I had visited. The swirling of the swells had just infuriated me. How could the world just continue to spin when such horrors exist on its surface? I had begun to wonder why I was born, just so i could see nightmare after nightmare. 

I had gotten up, allowed my feet to take me to the village. I was on a mission to find something which held the power to let me forget. Everything had to be gone, I couldn’t be me that night. Every other occasion I practised restraint, but I had come to believe there was no other option. The lure of the golden liquid too great a pull. The liquor sat under my bed, where most nights it taunted me, asking me to grab it and take a swig. I couldn’t, it was a reminder that I could but I couldn’t. Rather than fighting the urge and retiring to my bed, I took that blasted bottle and ran with it to the beach. I uncorked it and took a gulp, the sharp nectar dripping down my cheeks as it burnt my throat. It was bittersweet, the feeling of relief and fear brewed and fermented into a deep, thick fluid. It felt as though one gulp wasn’t enough, I could still think, still see my past as vividly as when first witnessing it. Nearly the whole bottle was gone, years of self control washed away.

The shades of blue swirls dancing around each other blurred, the drink in my hand not helping the feeling deep down. The loneliness not solved by befriending the bottle. The lure of the depths of the water were not so quiet, sirens insisting in my presence in their underwater temples. I found myself barefoot, my feet dug into the sand as I stood to walked closer to the edge. I fumbled to remove my shirt, so as to feel the full impact of the cold sea. The buttons barely unfastening before I slid it off of my shoulders. Nothing in the stabbing winds seemed to indicate that I should not have pursued the water’s call. I could only think of joining my mother and sister, my potential water grave lacked in boundaries, the space one last gift for myself. Something they never had, their bodies dumped in a small hole with ten others, limbs intertwined. Here my limbs could be free. I slid off my trousers, tripping as I tore them away from my feet. My body barely recoiled as I made first contact with the freezing surf, sea foam gathered in between my toes as i took another step in. I had barely remembered what it felt like to be so free. I dived, allowing the bitter ocean to wrap its arms around me, it hugged me as I sunk, held up only by the hope that this would mean all the badness I brought with me was washed away. My hair flowed around me freely, the light of the moon fading as I closed my eyes and allowed my body to be taken. I freed myself of everything, the water gave me that. 


	6. leave my body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy has an angel watching over her, protecting her from herself.

The faded water around me moved, as though touched by another body. For one it was warmer, and did not follow the pattern I had allowed my body to accept. The ebbs and flows guided me out towards the depths, everything in me wanted to lift my mouth for air, but I knew that wasn't an option. Suddenly, I felt the urge to open my eyes, as if I wanted to know what I was surrounded by in my last moments. Instead of the blue expanse i saw someone, their long dark hair flowing around, encasing me in a cocoon. Was i to emerge a beautiful butterfly? Perhaps? I thought, for a second, that this was just my head showing me the image of who i wanted to be one last time. Someone who had normal hair and who was a normal height. Someone who could be happy. That was until I felt a soft hand grab my arm, yanking my body into action. It was as if the kill switch in my brain was turned back off, as if the alcohol had suddenly drained from my body. I was so aware of where I was and knew that I shouldn’t have been there. My legs kicked and i spluttered for a breathe. I was so far down I couldn't tell if I was going to make it back up in time. My limbs were numb, the movement more of a reaction than intention. I tried to focus all of my energy in grabbing this person’s arm. They were strong. Stronger than me. 

It was as if, in that moment of contact I had felt all of the desperation leave my body, and all of my survival instincts had returned. This one person, one stranger, had reminded me that I was worth saving, even if i forgot that sometimes. I almost didn't realise that i was above water until i felt my lungs fill up, the sharpness of the cold air scratching at my dry throat. I felt myself being drawn to this person. The moonlight caught her face, her soft cheeks and kind eyes felt like home. Her freckles barely stood out on her face. The dark made it hard to see, but it was as though I could feel her beauty, her inner self shone out to me, and dragged me closer to her. No she dragged me to shore. I had almost forgotten the situation, the weightlessness sensation bringing me back. 

Waves hit against my head, pulling me under as i tried to swim back to land. Though the distance wasn’t far, I didn't have the energy to get all of the way there. It felt relentless, the current pulled and me, taunted me, told me I was never going to be enough. The woman went against it, her strength carrying us both. I felt her arms wrap around me, fumbling and trembling. My vision went blurry but my breathing had stabilised. I had heard a sigh as i was dropped to the ground, the sand under me was dry and fell apart at my touch. This woman had saved me. Even though i did this to myself. Even though she knew nothing about why i wanted to not be saved. She did that for me. And maybe her own conscience had led her to me, but why was she on the beach in the first place? I felt my body slip into a small sleep, my angel holding me in her embrace as I dozed off.

When I awoke, I was finally able to see, but the girl looked no more familiar than before. Her dark brown hair had dried, the waves in it calmer than the waves beating at the shore. Her blue eyes stared down at me as I stirred, and began to sit up. 

“Careful cariad, take this slow.” she said, holding my back as if to say I've got you. I tried to form a sentence but nothing came to mind. I was sure I just mumbled like an idiot, but she made no notice of it. I saw a small smile form as she realised I was coming to. I had managed to sit up by myself, but her hand didn't move. I should have swatted it away like I would have if it was someone from the village, but it felt right, like it fitted perfectly. 

“Don’t try to speak just yet, you are tired. You should rest.” she whispered in my ear, this time picking up her accent. It was different. Not quite anything, nothing I recognised anyway. I liked it. Intuitively, I leaned into her shoulder, her arm wrapping further around me as I did. Her hand was soft, I felt it through my vest, the way she held me let me know that it was my choice if I wanted to leave. Not too tight, not too loose. I had noticed how she leant into me as I put more weight onto her. 

“I’ve got you caraid, you’re safe with me.”

We sat, watching the waves which had consumed me roll in and out. Embracing the life of the space around us, the earth breathing in gusts of wind. Birds danced and dived around each other as they celebrated the first light. I couldn’t tell how much time had passed, it was not quite sunrise, but no matter how comfortable we were, it had to end. 

“Thank you” I whispered into the girl’s ear, allowing myself to drift off into a deep, needed sleep. Though I couldn't be sure of it, i thought i felt some tears drop from my beautiful angel’s eyes, blessing me for the rise of a new day. 

As the earth started to wake, I fell into a sweet sleep. The embrace of the dark-haired woman warmed me and I felt the sadness leave my body with one deep exhale. 


	7. Breath of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. Phyllis, a fellow village woman, comforted Patsy.

When I woke up the next morning, I was surprised to be alone, but not shocked. The idea that there was a woman once, who saved my life, was proven by the small chain wrapped thrice around my wrist. I certainly didn’t have this before. The sand around me was also different to usual, a small dent and footprints in both directions. The ones heading towards me seemed panicked, longer strides suggesting the person was running, the ones that lead back were short. She walked away slowly. Maybe she regretted leaving, perhaps she is still nearby. I hoped that she wanted to stay, that she felt the pull. The something that linked us together, as if we weren’t quite strangers. Her flowing hair had felt familiar, the way she navigated the ocean and the sand was something i had seen before. It was something I had ingrained somewhere in my brain, some core feeling had risen within me. A feeling once felt before. The sun had risen, spreading a golden sheen over the waters and sand. How I had wished to see the woman in this light, her face lit and clear, rather than the abstract shapes of the night. I wondered how her body would feel in the light, when i could see the curves i felt as i layed on her lap. How her hands which gently stroked my hair would appear, were they coarse and strong? Would her hair shine brightly in the morning sun, almost matching my own hair as the darkness takes hold of the new day’s colours? 

It was almost sad to open my eyes fully, to accept that the day had to begin. Even though the night before was so eventful, so full of emotions. When i had succumbed to the morning, the people pacing towards me had come as a shock, the sad part was that no-one would miss me if i was gone. I was wrong. I had suddenly become embarrassed over the empty bottle that was full just half a day ago, wondering how the parents of the young boys of the village would feel, knowing that I was here. I was a mess. I had feelings unspoken of. I had taken it upon myself to end those feelings in the most corrupt way possible. I almost didn't want them to reach me, as though they were stuck in a never ending loop of almost reaching me but not quite. I was overcome with comfort when it was Phyllis that had found me first. I was suddenly aware of my hair, damp and cold and straggled everywhere, my clothes discarded behind me and my vest and pants soaked and covered in sand. My skin was sticky with sweat and salt, and my eyes were salty and wet with tears.

“Oh lass, oh lass look at what’s happened.” she said, sitting next to me with respect to the distance between us. Hesitant, she reached out to hold me, to warm me. She was as good as a mother to me, full of information I could rely on to make me feel better. I allowed my body to lean into her, anxious of the whiff of alcohol she might catch, but not worried that she will judge me now. Her arms were warm and welcoming, but something was missing, something only the mysterious saviour had. Like a spark that had lingered between us. Phyllis didn’t have the spark, just warmth. A warmth which started to roll down my face and burn, the tears released from my eyes with such force that it hurt. 

“It's ok lass, let's get you warmed up, I have some soup on the fire and I have some blankets there. Don't pay attention to anyone just yet, I’ll let them know to give you some space.”

My legs barely functioned, so much so that it took another person to lug me to the campfire Phyll had set up. Once there, I wanted nothing more than to divulge all of what happened, but I knew it had to be a private conversation. Though I was never told that the feelings I had last night were wrong, there were also no female pairings like the couples in the village. This was enough to remind me i was different. Phyll was kind, she understood me in a way no one else could. I was a stray cat she homed and fed. Her words of wisdom had always filled me with such hope. Gave me comfort that I longed for. 

I retired to my hut and let out a breath, i had held it in from before, from the night, a breath I never truly thought I would give again. I inhaled with recognition that the night before had happened, but I was saved. I was worth saving. I continued to breathe through everything, a breath of life filling and escaping my lungs in a fulfilling way. The knock at my door brought me out of my trance. 

“Come in” 

“I think we need to talk lass, about last night.” 


	8. Seven Devils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W mentions of suicide and implications of depression.

I didn’t know, it wasn't normal for me to admit it but i really couldn't put to words what had happened last night. It was as if my whole memory of what led up to the moments had been changed the moment i laid eyes on her, or she laid hands on me. Her touch had erased the pain I had felt. The fact that just one person could do that, make me feel so much and so little at the same time. It scared me. And i didn't know how to say that to Phyllis. She had sat so patiently in her chair, facing me, urging me to talk but i could do nothing but stare at her back. The silence almost hurt me, the waves crashing in the background a reminder that, if it had not been for that magnificent woman, those waves would have been my grave. What was I thinking?, a child could have found me. I could have out the burden of another dead body on this town and I didn’t even care. My eyes flitted back and forth, between Phyllis and the door to her hut, not sure whether to run or face the truth. To choose the former would only worsen my situation, to choose the latter could cause such pain to both of us. To run would not help, however, and there was only really one option. 

“ I ran.” I said, my voice unstable against my emotions, “ I couldn’t take it anymore, the faces of the children without parents. What was I supposed to do? Comfort them? Tell them it all gets better? Because it doesn’t. Fifteen years later and I'm still an utter mess, I still can’t sleep at night for fear that I will see them. See their sullen, empty faces. Staring at me, wanting me. Want. wanting me to help them. For me to save them.. I couldn’t fucking save them. And i cant fucking save them now. Fifteen years and I still hope that they’ll come back, from between the trees, smiles on their faces. I can’t even say their names Phyllis. Its their fucking names and i can’t say them, i cant think them because if i do i remember that they aren’t here. I can’t live watching these kids, and their just fucking kids Phyillis. I can't watch them grieve every day, I can't give them hope where there is none. I'm done! I was done. I tried and i tried so much, so fucking much, and I was done with it. Phyllis. I gave up and I ran.” 

It felt strangely freeing to say that, to release the tears, let them run freely down my face. They burnt, and the salt lingered in the tracks they left. Phyllis’ face showed remorse, though i was not sure if it was for me, or for having asked the question. 

“I'm not ok, Phyllis. I am not good.” I choked out “but she saved me. She thought me worth saving. And I can't explain how I feel. How I felt. She reminded me so much of my past. She reminded me that my life was worth living. For just a second I believed her. And her eyes were the kindest eyes, so bright and full of life, but not unscarred. When you’re in pain it's so easy to feel others’. She just. Saved my life. I never asked her to. I wanted to die Phyllis, but I didn't. Because of her. She was so beautiful, her soul was so full of hope. I can’t even thank her, or at least give her back. Never mind.”

“Is this another?” Phyllis pushed, with a knowing glint to her eye. I had confided in her only once before, about my affliction, though never directly. I believe she understood. “Another connection?” 

“Its illogical, anyone would try to save someone if their drowning, I bet it's natural to be so thankful for them saving your life that these feelings arise.'' I said, trying more so to convince myself than Phyllis. Though our tribe were more nature-forward thinkers, my afflictions were still a crime, still frowned upon. Who knew how others would think of me? A demon walking amongst them. Someone as ugly as me looking after their children. Damn that woman, making me feel so much. 

“You can’t push back against this lass. For better or for worse, this is who you are. Love will always prevail.”

“Is it really love though?”

“Do you feel it in your heart? Does it tug within you like a string pulling you in nonsensical directions? Does it pain you to not pursue it?” 

Though i could barely admit it, those feelings fell with such intensity it was near impossible to avoid feeling the way she described. And through my lack of response, I think she understood. She was right. I knew it. But the pain never went away, it always lingered. Held on by a bit of string, sometimes it would hang still and other times it would swing so high it nearly rounded back on itself. But it was always there, the pain of loss, and the hurt of not having someone to share it with, in the way of man and wife. The devils in my life would surround me through every second. My power came from embracing them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating so often, and sorry for apologising. its been a strange time but i am still here, still working on this project. and once again, hope you enjoy it. let me know how you feel, i really do appreciate any feedback :) .


	9. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just as the township starts to show signs of recovery, a shock announcement of a mysterious knight's imminent arrival might just put a spanner in the works for patsy.

The past week has made me question whether the whole thing had even happened, i mean a mysterious girl turning up to save me seemed ridiculous, not aided by the fact i haven’t been able to speak of it to anyone. The town seems to think i went for a midnight swim and just fell asleep on the beach, which to be fair is entirely within character by the fact it is completely random. Phyllis did a good job of hiding the bottle, and the stench of alcohol was dulled, slightly, by the salty water, and some had already washed off. The only indication that it did, in fact, occur, was the murmurs that had spread throughout town, of this mysterious knight who had been turning up in the surrounding towns, challenging their knights to duels and jousts. On hearing this the first time, i was not phased. This thing had happened again and again, it's not exactly unusual. 

But then i thought harder, remembering the girl was in some sort of metal which could have been armour. It made no sense though, why she was wearing it then. Everything was so fuzzy, my brain, the gossip, my stomach when i thought about her saving me. She just, ugh. I couldn’t comprehend why this was affecting me somehow, or why i was letting it. I got lucky, that’s it. 

The morning sun was bright, and life in our small town had just got back on track, gaps not forgotten but lives no longer mourned. We could think about them, but on our own time, at night when everyone was in bed. The day was for our duties. And mine was to look after the kids who had survived. The grass was damp on my feet as I walked around, greeting my fellows as I took their children to the training grounds. After everything that had happened, it was deemed suitable to set one up, give us a good chance of defending our small village against anyone who might underestimate us. We had sharper swords, and harder hearts, than before. We were ready for battle, but they were still just kids. I think i understood that more than most. We laughed, because what else can you do in the face of death. Their happiness, and freedom, and love was their best weapon. Their persistence through everything. I was proud of that, it reminded me of my sister, through thick and thin. Their smiles stronger than any muscle on their body, and in the morning sun they shone brighter than any star in the sky. 

We had started with wooden sticks, basic combat skills, though it soon became obvious to me that not everyone was up for it, some of their minds shone too bright for the simple stuff. We talked strategy, understanding the opponent.

“When we look at the opposition, you observe them, never let them get a hit in but don't go for the kill until you are confident you know how they will react. Get in their heads. Now, this goes for everything. Figure out how something is working, then plan the best way to get out of the situation. Sometimes, the best strategy is to run, wear them out, other times you ditch your weapons. But when you are fighting an enemy much bigger than you, let us uplift you. We are your family, your friends, your souls are within each of us as ours is within you. Remember to love beyond anything else.” 

The morning became noon, and the sun was too high to continue, so we downed tools and set out some things for each of us to work on. They were good kids, kind and gentle warriors. 

“Patsy!” i heard from somewhere near the greens. I turned around to see Phyllis waving at me, “patsy, the council wants to speak to you, now.”

“Town hall?”

“Yes dear.”

I exhaled deep. I wondered if they had discovered my secret. Whether I was being punished for it, or if they had discovered the true events of that night. I couldn’t figure it out from Phyllis’ face, i guessed she was as clueless as i was. The walk to the hut felt long, even though it was only about 30 steps. “Breathe '' I thought to myself. 

“Patience” 

I nodded, in my stress i had forgotten how to address the council.

“I am sure you have heard about this travelling knight, and the rumours of him possibly coming to our town very soon.” Doctor Turner, who was one of the new members of the council, said.

“Yes sir, i have been made aware of it.” i guessed they wanted to know which boy would be most suitable for battle. It made sense to me then, that this was it, the reason they wanted to speak to me.

“We can confirm that a letter has been sent by this knight to ask for permission to battle in this township, proposing a date two days from now. We would like to ask you to represent us.”

“Me?” i ejected out of complete shock, “i am sorry for my impertinence sir, and i dont mean to question you, but are you sure I am the best choice, a knight is traditionally a man.”

“We trust you, you have been teaching the children for a number of months now, and we truly believe you have both the strength and knowledge to put up a good fight. You already have armour made for battle. You may chose someone to help you prepare, anyone would be honoured to assist you, Patience”

I was in utter shock, they chose me with all of my sins, to represent the town, a town I wasn’t born in, nor have I ever truly believed I belonged in. 

“Of course, sir, it is an honour to represent the township.”

I could hardly turn such an offer down, with everything considered, I owe quite a lot to this town. I will just have to keep that part of me concealed, so as not to bring them disgrace. 

“One question, however.” a deep voice spoke as I began to turn to take my leave, “would you be comfortable acting as a man.”

“If that is what it shall take, sir.”

I used to imagine how much easier my life could be if I was a man, how my attractions would be instantly solved. But it just wasn’t me, I loved being me as I am. With all of my pain, and all of the happiness I have experienced. I am who I am. I took my leave, with just one question on my mind. 

“How do I hide that I am a woman?” 


End file.
